Duckling to Swan
by Lyn Harkeran
Summary: Enchanted Forest AU: Snow and Charming are in the possession of the Dark One's Dagger, and as such Rumpelstiltskin must serve them. He wishes for freedom and solitude. But his enslavement becomes infinitely brighter when a child of True Love with a intriguing destiny comes into the picture and offers him something far more precious than magic. Rumpelstiltskin/Emma: (Golden Swan)
1. Prologue

**Duckling to Swan: Prologue**

* * *

From the moment she was born, Rumpelstiltskin knew that the little princess would be trouble.

This realization didn't come because the child was the heir to the House of White. Or that she would one day be in control of his Dagger when she became Queen. It wasn't even the fact that she was born with a natural talent for magic.

Oh no.

It was the bright glimmer that shone from her brand new eyes- when they had first met his strange amber golden ones as he entered the birthing room- that caught his attention. Those eyes that matched her mother's light green, and yet held a fire that put the dragons of the south to shame. Those orbs that were shockingly aware and alert despite their tender age.

Yes- the Dark One noted with amused interest, as he beheld the babe for the first time- this little princess with hair of the finest gold, eyes as green as the infinite forest, and a life born from True Love was something to be reckoned with.

Rumpelstiltskin had been bound to the House of White by Snow's father, and had been serving the family faithfully since then. Though it was officially against his will, the Dark One had come to concede that the Masters of his Dagger could have been a lot worse.

As her father before her- Snow and her Prince Charming had treated him fairly, and had given him very few commands he wasn't willing to do. This was a great relief to the imp, seeing as he had vowed to never cow to anyone ever again, and to date he hadn't had to. Rumpelstiltskin was given respect and often treated to his solitude and own devices. Which was very much to his liking, though Snow and Charming _did _amuse him from time to time.

So it was now, having been summoned, that Rumpelstiltskin- the feared and accursed Dark One- came to see the baby that would someday take over his dagger. And to his surprise, upon coming to stand fully in the room and after formal greetings, Snow White had asked if he wanted to hold the child.

The imp would have refused if he had thought he could have gotten away with it. But upon seeing Snow White's warm and tired smile, and the proud countenance that Charming was emitting, he held out his arms in silent acquiescence to take the bundle of blankets and little limbs.

The baby was fairly small- no more than 6 pounds, by the imp's guess- and it had been quite a while since Rumpelstiltskin had held such a delicate thing. But after a moment it all came back to him; and with expert hands he held the child close to his heart and began to hum a tuneless song. The princess gave him a toothless smile, before she reached her small hand up to gain purchase on his nose. The Dark One indulged her, with a smile of his own in place, and couldn't stop himself before he had placed a kiss to her petite little fingers. He had always loved babies, and this wee one was no exception.

From their place on the bed, Charming and Snow both shared a smile. Though the Dark One put on an air of insanity and whimsical giddiness for most that approached him, both Monarchs had been lucky enough to have seen his tender side, and were pleased to see it resurface now as he held their child.

Rumpelstiltskin was silent for several long moments, gently jouncing the child as she grew fussy, before he broke the silence. Both parents noticed that his strange eyes never left their baby's face, as he patted a soft rhythm on her back to calm her.

"Quite the pretty little thing, isn't she? Though she'll have a lot to live up to with you as her mother."

_The Fairest of them All_ rolled her eyes. "There's no competition, Rumpelstiltskin. She's more beautiful than I have ever been."

The imp gave a noncommittal noise that said he was neutral with his opinion, before he sobered and once more grew silent.

Then after a brief period of calm he asked, "What's her name?"

The inquiry was so quiet that they almost missed it, but Snow moved to answer him with motherly pride.

"Emma," Snow answered lovingly as she took Charming's hand in her own and squeezed it happily. "Her name is Emma."

Rumpelstiltskin's head cocked to the side as the name rang out through his mind. It was familiar . . . That name . . . But why? What significance did it hold in the long run?

"Does the wee mite have another name?" The question garnered him confused looks, but he was used to it after nearly 300 years of scaly skin and animalistic eyes.

"Swan," Charming offered after a moment of silence, which brought forth a giggle from the imp as the name triggered flashes of the child's future. And what a future it was!

"What do you see," Snow asked, which made the Dark One's gaze finally lift from the baby's face. Snow really was a smart one at times, and the imp would have been lying if he hadn't admitted he enjoyed having someone around who could keep up.

"She's got a remarkable destiny about her," he sang, with his usual flair coming to shape his tone. "Magic, the Slaying of Fantastical Beasts, Marriage, and don't forget Twu Wove! She will _most certainly_ live up to your legacy, dearies!"

Snow laughed happily at the news and Charming cuddled his wife; beside themselves with joy at the promise of a meaningful future with their daughter. And they were so caught up in the moment, that neither realized that the Dark One had held back information.

Rumpelstiltskin ignored the two lovers and once more looked down at the princess in his arms. Once more he took in the brilliant beauty and the destiny before her, and shook his head in awe.

Emma Swan: It was a fitting name, all things considered. A strong name, for a strong spirit. Oh yes, the little bird would be a handful, that much was certain. And secretly, Rumpelstiltskin was glad of it. Not that he would ever say so aloud.

"_Emma_," he repeated in a hushed tone, as a mysterious smile formed unbidden to his thin lips. "What a beautiful name. . ."

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_**A/N:** _This story will have a couple more parts because it's a very on-the-spot sporadic idea. I needed to write some Golden Swan and some Rumple fluff to lighten my spirits. This is the result. Hope you guys like it! ^ ^

Also, this is going to have a wonderfully fluffy, cavity inducing ending. Because I want to and I _can. _

Please drop me a review and let me know what you thought. Was everyone in-character? Was the writing okay? I need to know, so I don't bore you guys to tears

Anyway, love yall!

**_~Lyn Harkeran_**


	2. Daggers and Deals

**Duckling to Swan: Daggers and Deals**

* * *

A gentle breeze rippled through the trees, making the fresh green leaves rustle in a unique song. And sunlight flickered through them in mellow, yet gay displays, thus setting the overall mood for a tranquil afternoon.

It was the perfect day, with not a cloud in the sky, or a frown to be had. . . Well except for the little girl that currently walked past the gardens and outer gate, trudging forward without a second's hesitation.

She was quite a sight to behold, with her soft blonde curls bouncing with every step, and the dusty tunic and breeches she had stolen from one of the stable boys. But despite her messy appearance and large frown, it was obvious to anyone who passed her that she was a royal. It had always been so, since the day she was born. No matter what the five year old did or said- even on the rare occasion where she threw a tantrum- there was something about her that could only be described as a princess.

It wasn't the fact that she acted like a lady, or that she was naturally beautiful like a princess should be. Rather it was something about her eyes. . . A purpose and light that could only be expressed by a future ruler of the land.

Or at least, that's what people said. Not that Emma believed it.

Being a queen meant boring dance lessons, being around people she didn't like, and wearing dresses. Whereas, being a knight would be nothing but adventures, and swords, and dragons.

Emma usually smiled when she thought about becoming a knight, but not today. She couldn't smile about anything until she found her friend_. _And that was why, the little girl currently trudged towards the lake shore that rested just beyond the castle walls.

When she had gone to Rumpelstiltskin's chambers in the West Wing- desperately in need of comfort and understanding- and hadn't found her precious playmate, the princess had asked the guards, and they had told her that he had gone to the lake. So, Emma had wasted no time going after him_. _

With steady feet and a grimace in place, the child approached the shore line where the water lapped against the soft sands, and spun around to look looking for him. After a moment of this, and no luck in finding the Dark One, Emma plonked down on the damp sand and promptly started to cry.

The five year old was devastated and felt absolutely wretched as fat tears rolled down her freckled cheeks, and she buried her face in her hands. Rumpelstiltskin had left her. He had abandoned her, and now she was all alone. And he was never coming back. . .

"Oh dear! Oh dearie, dearie, dear!"

Emma's head snapped up at the familiar voice, and instantly spotted her friend sitting on a rock several feet away.

Without preamble, the child stood up and ran over to the leather clad figure. And with a shaky sob, she launched herself at the imp. The initial force of her embrace nearly knocked them both off the rock, but with some effort, the Dark One was able to keep his place on the stone.

"Well, someone's emotions are getting the better of her," he commented playfully, as he returned the hug. "Though crying _before _you see me is quite unexpected. Seeing as it usually works the other way round. . . What reduced the little duckling to tears?"

"Y-y-you left!" Emma cried, looking up at her friend with teary light green eyes. "You l-left without saying g-g-goodbye!"

The imp looked confused. "Why would I say goodbye to you, when I was going to see you at the banquet this evening?"

"But you weren't!" Emma yelled, her small chest heaving as she fought to breathe through her hysterics. "You were leaving me and you weren't coming back!"

The Dark One gazed solidly at the little girl who was currently clinging to him, for several long moments before he lifted her chin up so that she met his eyes. And once again he was surprised by what he saw. Rumpelstiltskin didn't think he'd ever get used to the little princess and her way of catching him unawares, but he couldn't claim to dislike it either. Seeing as it took a rare person, indeed to surprise him.

"Why would you think that," he asked quietly, as he tenderly pulled her hair away from her dirty, tear streaked face.

More tears flowed down the child's face as she answered him in a heartbroken whisper. "A-Aunt Red told me about your Dagger."

The imp froze. There had been an agreement between himself, Snow, and Charming, that Emma wouldn't know anything about the Dagger until she came of age. If for nothing else, to spare her from the responsibility the knowledge would cause. It was too much to place on any child's shoulders, and Emma's current emotional predicament was valid proof of this point.

Rumpelstiltskin made a mental note to turn the meddling werewolf into a large snail, and to wear his extra sturdy boots upon their next meeting, before he was once more distracted by what Emma was saying.

"S-She said that I would one day control you . . . And that you didn't want to be here! That you were being forced by mama and papa to stay!"

The Dark One breathed a sigh as he met the child's sorrowful gaze, choosing his words carefully.

"Your Aunt is correct," he said calmly, his usual tittering and giggles momentarily forgotten with the weight of the topic he addressed. "Your parents possess my dagger, and when you are Queen they will pass it on to you."

"I don't want it," Emma whispered forcefully, as her lip trembled pitifully, and she buried her face into his leather clad chest. "I don't want to control you! I just want you to be my friend!"

Rumpelstiltskin was speechless as her words sunk in. She didn't want to control him? . . . This was an odd turn of events. . . .But no; she would surely change her mind when she was old enough to understand what she was being offered. The Dark One knew that these childish emotions and need of companionship wouldn't last, so he vowed he would make the most of it. Until the day, she was ready for her birthright; he would remain her playmate and companion and leave the little details for later.

"We are friends, dearie," he reassured her with a smile. "Though you can be quite trying, when ya want to be."

Emma looked up at his scaly face, studying him with hopeful eyes, "R-Really?"

The imp nodded, "Oh yeah."

The princess smiled back at him after a moment, and Rumpelstiltskin noticed that her grip on him loosened ever so slightly. Rubbing soothing circles on her back with the tips of his long claw-like nails, he continued on a whim.

"Let's make a deal, you and I."

"What deal," Emma asked curiously.

"This: Whether you take control of my dagger or not, I will always answer you when you call to me."

The child scrunched her nose. "Do you want one of mama's jewels?"

For the first time since she had found him that day, Rumpelstiltskin laughed. The princess really was a spitfire when she wanted to be. And he had taught her quite well, all things considered. Even at the tender age of five, his little swan knew that everything came at a price.

"No little duckling, no jewels. You'll just . . . owe me a _favor_."

Emma seemed to think about the proposal for a moment, before she slowly nodded. "Okay. No tricks?"

"No tricks, dearie," the imp repeated with another low chuckle as he set her down from his lap, and took her hand in his own. And as the two began to make their way back to the castle, hand in hand, he added, "At least, not for you."

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_**A/N:** _Their deal is going to be important in later chapters and with the main plot. (Just a heads up, guess away, if you can!)^^

Besides, we needed some Rumple/ child Emma fluff? Am I right? XD (Or _I_ needed it . . . Please tell me I'm not alone!?)

Oh, and shout out to both _riverrunner11_ and _celestria06_ for reviewing! *tackles you both and smothers you in kisses* You both were so sweet and I'm thrilled that you both like what I have so far! Thank you for taking the time!

Also, I'd like to thank everyone else who has faved, followed, or read this story! You are all wonderful peoples and I hope that you'll continue to enjoy the journey with me!

Anyway, what did yall think this time around? Was Rum in-character? Good writing? Crappy shoddy work? XD Either way I'd love to know what you guys think is going to happen! Drop me a PM or Review with your insights! :D

Love you guys!

_**~Lyn Harkeran**_


	3. Remembrance and a Rose

**Duckling to Swan: Remembrance and a Rose**

* * *

It was almost midnight, and the Dark One couldn't sleep- though he most certainly had tried. He had done everything to relax- save for downing a sleeping potion- and yet peace of mind evaded him at every turn. Rumpelstiltskin had long since shed his usual dragon-skin leather and had opted for merely his shirt and breeches. But despite his state of undress, wakefulness and consternation still oozed from the imp like blood gushing from a newly inflicted wound.

The mystical being paced the length of the West Wing, silently counting the seconds as the minutes turned into hours, and the hours turned into what felt like a lifetime. Rumpelstiltskin had been pacing all night and found now after hours of doing so, that he couldn't bring his feet to stop.

The Dark One's eyes flickered for the thousandth time to the corner where his work table resided, and he took in a shaky breath. Upon the surface of the table were his usual vials and ingredients for potion making, and other otherworldly items that had un-imaginable effects when used. But it wasn't any of these things that made the strange man return to his pacing. It was the three items that rested in the exact center of the space that caused his heart to turn.

One was a broken piece of wood, snapped in half so that it looked more like kindling than anything else. But if one were to observe it closely they would see that it had once been a walking stick of some sort: a woodcarving that had been whittled with care and affection. Then, there was a small cloth sack filled to the brim with something soft and off-white. And lastly there was a tattered tunic made from the lowliest of rags.

All night, and the day before, the Dark One had been tortured by these items. For nearly 24 hours he had been holed-up within his chambers in the West Wing, gazing at them and then losing himself a little bit more. And he did this because of tradition.

It was his _anniversary_.

It had been the exact same day nearly 300 years prior, that the simple spinner known as Rumpelstiltskin had become the Dark One_._ It was the _exact_ flipside in time that Rumpelstiltskin had lost the only person he had ever truly loved.

_His son: Bae. _

The Dark One stopped his pacing again, and let silent tears fall from his strange golden-gray eyes as he once more looked at the items. These three things that sat so innocently upon his table were reminders. Reminders of how he had _failed. _Unforgettable mementos of what he had lost.

His old wooden cane- the keepsake of a cripple, a bag of yarn- the last thing he had ever accomplished with his boy-and his son's old tunic- preserved with magic, down to the large slashes across the back and chest areas, and the countless splatters of dark crimson stains.

From its condition, you would have thought the horrific incident had happened only hours ago, instead of centuries.

Slowly, Rumpelstiltskin approached the table and with shaky, dark-clawed hands, picked up the tunic. It was still covered in blood. . . _Bae's_ blood.

The Dark One closed his eyes as the memory of that day replayed in his mind's-eye, and choked softly as the pain of remembering overwhelmed his senses.

The Dukes' soldiers had recruited his son for the dreaded Ogre War and in the spinners' desperation to escape such a fate, Rumpelstiltskin and his son and tried to flee, which had proven hopeless. Then in what seemed like the final hour, the timid spinner had found another way to protect his boy: the Dark One's Dagger. It was said that if you had this mystical being's dagger in hand, you could control him. The world could be yours if you willed it, for the Dark One was the most powerful magic user in all the realms. Bae would be safe!

Rumpelstiltskin laughed bitterly at the memory. It had seemed too good to be true, and it _had _been. Now, the imp knew that everything came at a price, and the price of being the Dark One had been the steepest price of them all.

The lowly spinner had succeeded in acquiring the Dark One's dagger, but in his innocence, he had been seduced by the promise of power. Why control the Dark One when you could have his magic as your own?

Rumpelstiltskin had killed the old Dark One, and had become all-powerful. He had more than enough magic to save his son from participating in the ferocious war. . . But he had been too late.

The scale-ridden imp clutched the bloody tunic to his chest as he slumped down onto his bed; violent cries escaping his thin form. And a painful gasp passed through his lips as the image of his son's mangled body flashed before his eyes.

He had returned to their cottage to find his boy- his precious Bae- _dead. _And no amount of spells or potions had been able to reanimate his son's lifeless form.

When Rumple had gone off to search for the Dark One's dagger, the soldiers had returned. And Baelfire, being the courageous youth that he was, had tried to fight them off.

The foolishness of this action had cost the child dearly. His adolescent back had been covered in whip lashes and sword slices, marking more pain than anyone should ever have to feel. His youthful face had been beaten, so that it had been covered in dark bruises and gaping cuts.

But it hadn't been any of these wounds that had killed him.

It had been the knife stabbed directly into the child's heart that had finally taken Baelfire from the world of the living. . . And Rumpelstiltskin hadn't even been able to say goodbye.

A deep sob wracked the Dark One's body as the guilt and regret swallowed him whole.

Bae had suffered and died a horrific death, and he _hadn't_ been there. He had been off trying to steal magic tricks! He had been an hour's journey away, unable to hear his sons' cries for help as he was beaten and then stabbed.

Rumple. Hadn't. Been. There. . .

_Bae probably thought that I'd abandoned him. _Rumple cried out as the familiar assumption taunted him. _He screamed your name, thought you'd come and save him, and you __weren't __there__! You left your child to die alone!_

Rumpelstiltskin continued to cry soul-shattering sobs as he let himself feel the pain all over again. He hadn't been strong enough to save his son. His lifetime cowardice had defined him in the worst possible way, and not even his endless magic could hide it.

The Dark One continued to cradle the tunic, and would have stayed lost to his worst memories if at that exact moment someone hadn't knocked upon his chamber door.

Rumple snarled viciously at the figure behind it- unable to speak due to his state of mind- though he wordlessly told the intruder to leave before he cursed them.

But apparently the person behind the oaken door wasn't afraid of the Dark One, for almost immediately after the imp snarled, the door creaked open.

From the doorway a small, sleepy face peek in, sporting droopy light green eyes and long golden curls molded into nighttime disarray.

The Dark One instantly recognized the little girl to be the heir of his dagger: the young Swan Princess. But he found that even her presence couldn't stop his pain.

Emma looked confused at first, taking in the sight of Rumpelstiltskin with unfocused eyes before she fully entered the room, staring at him worriedly.

"Rumpelstiltskin, what's wrong?"

The imp opened his mouth to tell her to go back to bed and leave him be, but found that he couldn't find the words. He couldn't say _anything_, as more tears flooded down his gaunt face.

Slowly, the eight year old crept forward and came to stand hesitantly before him. She gazed at him silently, trying to read his face with the unconditional concern only a child can achieve, before she lowered herself onto the bed next to him. From the princess' expression, the Dark One could tell that she wanted to ask him questions, but to his surprise she remained quiet and merely sat with him.

As the minutes ticked by, the girl raised her feet up and tucked them under her nightgown to keep warm, and leaned her golden head upon his shoulder.

The action wasn't expected, and Rumpelstiltskin jumped slightly as her head rested there. And in response to startling him, Emma reached her smaller hand over to grab one of his scaly ones, and held it tightly.

"Please don't cry," she pleaded softly, making the imp choke even more. But he could only shake his head.

Even if he had wanted to make the tears stop he couldn't have. There was too much emotion within him. . . He had opened a floodgate of despair- like he did every year on this accursed day- and now he would have to experience the grief until it had zapped him of all energy. Only as he fell asleep from fatigue would the pain finally go back to its usual dull ache. And until he fell unconscious, he would have to suffer.

After several more minutes of trying to pull himself together, Rumpelstiltskin was finally able to slow his tears enough to speak.

"I'm fine dearie. . . It's late. You should return to your bed before you're missed."

Emma looked like she wanted to argue, but his eyes demanded obedience, so she stood up from his side and turned to leave.

Then, right before she was about to leave his chamber she spun around again. From the sparkle in her eyes, the Dark One knew that she was up to something, but before he could say anything she was running back to stand before him.

And as she stood there, the princess gave him a small smile, before shutting her eyes in concentration and waving her hand in a fluent arc of motion. It was only as a silver light overtook her fingers that Rumpelstiltskin realized she was using magic.

After a moment, the light faded, and housed in the child's hand was a delicate, pure white rose. Emma leaned forward and slowly unfolded his fingers, one by one, before she placed the conjured flower into his palm. Thus giving him the rose, the princess placed a soft kiss to his scaly, tear-stained cheek and then turned to take her leave from the West Wing.

And as the door clicked behind young Emma Swan, Rumpelstiltskin began to cry once more, holding the rose with reverence. For he hadn't received a gift since childhood, and no one since Bae had ever dared to touch him. In nearly 300 years, no one had ever chanced kissing the _beast_.

* * *

_**A/N:** _I took a handful of liberties and decided to change some of the events from OUAT's canon. Baelfire died during the events of Desperate Souls (1x08), so Rumple never needed to create the Dark Curse. I know it's way sad and morbid, but it suited my purposes for this story. (Sorry bae/neal lovers!)

I swear this story is more Emma/Rumple fluff than anything else. Hope you guys don't mind it too much! ^^;

So how was the chapter? Do my revisions to the original plot line work out okay? Please drop me a review and let me know. Your input and thoughts are always appreciated! *hugs you all*

**_~Lyn Harkeran_**


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